


Crave

by Adventures_in_Writing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, cute fluff, lolix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adventures_in_Writing/pseuds/Adventures_in_Writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Locus surprises himself and Felix. For once, he doesn’t lie.</p>
<p>“Felix…”</p>
<p>The name hangs in the air between them, the unspoken demand hidden behind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crave

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an Anon on Synnesai's Tumblr wanting to see touch-starved Locus and Synnesai wanting Locus refusing to let Felix go because of how much he needed the feeling of skin on skin.
> 
> And thus this little tid-bit came about.

* * *

Locus doesn’t like being touched by Felix.

Warm hands that are small but dextrous and surprisingly soft trace invisible patterns up over his arm. Locus tells himself he doesn’t like how the feather-light touch makes his skin tingle or how he can still feel ghost-fingers upon his skin when Felix’s hands move elsewhere. As Felix lays beside him, he waits expectantly to see where those hands will go. He doesn’t like how disappointed he feels when Felix takes his hands away and goes to move from the bed.  
  
For once, Locus surprises himself and Felix. For once, he doesn’t lie.  
  
“Felix…”  
  
The name hangs in the air between them, the unspoken demand hidden behind it: _Touch me._  
  
Felix settles back down beside Locus and trails his hand back down Locus’s bare arm. When the smaller of the two reaches Locus’s hand, he entwines their fingers, lazily stroking the back of his hand and his palm. The gentle touch is soothing. Felix’s hand makes its way up his arm again and to his back, the fabric of his shirt numbing the sensation slightly. Felix traces idle patterns for a few minutes before Locus shrugs out of his shirt. Felix grins.  
  
Locus’s shoulder blades rise as Felix trails a slender finger along his spine and his skin forms hundreds of tiny goose bumps. He delights in how Felix’s finger slowly trails down to where his spine dips before making its way back up to the base of his neck. Felix repeats this a number of times and each time his hand moves downward, a surge of tingles runs along Locus’s spine. His eyes close as he basks in the sensation of Felix’s hands upon him. Felix presses his palms against Locus’s sides, allowing them to glide over the curves of his well-toned torso and back. Those soft hands move effortlessly, and Locus sighs softly as the tension he holds in his muscles seems to just melt away.  
  
He can hear the rustle of material as Felix removes his clothes and Locus follows suit. The low bed that they had been laying on sinks beneath Felix’s weight as he returns to Locus.  
  
He can feel Felix at his back, only inches away and turns so he can face the smaller man. Gently, Locus grasps Felix’s hand and places it at his collar bone. Locus watches as his hand moves slowly, deliberately, across his broad shoulders, following the contours of his neck and chest. There is nothing urgent about how Felix’s hand explores the expanse of skin before him. There’s nothing more to what Felix does than the simple act of touching. It’s this simple act that Locus needs: he doesn’t need the urgent fumbling of a quick one-nighter, nor does he need the kind of torturous teasing that makes men beg.  
Locus shifts closer still and wraps his arms around the mercenary, bringing their bodies together. He slides one leg between Felix’s, their bodies nestling perfectly against one another. He hums softly, the sound low.  
  
Locus doesn’t like being touched by Felix.  
  
He craves it.


End file.
